


Sirius Black and the Fall of 1979

by byebyebluejay



Series: Seasons with Sirius Black [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Jily, Fluff, James and Lily's wedding, Love Confessions, M/M, Minor Angst, sirius silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 13:21:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11381040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/byebyebluejay/pseuds/byebyebluejay
Summary: Sirius, always in it for love and glory, was the world's best best man. But Remus is concerned when he notices that Sirius left the reception a little bit early, and decides to go look for him.





	Sirius Black and the Fall of 1979

**Author's Note:**

> Podfic available here: [ The Star and Moon: Wolfstar Podcast - The Star and Moon: Seasons with Sirius Black (Sirius Black and the Fall of 1979) ](http://shoutengine.com/TheStarandMoonWolfstarPodcast/the-star-and-moon-seasons-with-sirius-black-sirius-42242)

Sirius had been in bloom all day, even though it wasn’t his wedding. Maybe no one else saw the situation the way he did, but Remus knew the truth of it: every fiber of Sirius’s near boundless energy was being channeled into charm, wit, and humor. His glow rivaled Lily’s. His grin matched James’s. And, no matter what Sirius said, he looked wonderful in his dress robes. Someone—Remus assumed Marlene McKinnon, since Lily had surely been busy—had done his hair for him, and the braids that merged into a half ponytail at the back of Sirius’s head were threaded with daisies. He had openly wept beside Mrs. Potter when James and Lily had exchanged rings and kissed, made Remus laugh so hard his stomach hurt during his toast at the reception, turned Mrs. Evans blushing and giggly with a joke and a dance, and performed such a vigorous and violent jig with James that Lily, nearly helpless with laughter herself, had been forced to intervene when they nearly upset the drinks table.

They had danced too.

With Celestina Warbeck singing “You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me" over the gramophone, Sirius had drawn him out onto the floor. Peter had giggled and nudged a pink-face and perspiring Marlene, but she didn’t seem to take it as a joke. And neither did Remus. They moved together, his hand on Sirius’s hip, Sirius’s hand on the small of his back, and it felt right and good, despite the fact he was far less sure on his feet than Sirius, who danced like he had been born to. But the smile he had given Remus at the end of the song as he broke away had rattled something in Remus. He was the first to notice Sirius disappear near the end of the reception, when everyone had been helping to tidy up.

Remus found Sirius in the third place he looked—the sycamore tree in the Potter’s front yard. He was sprawled on the thick lower bough, back to the trunk, nursing a bottle of Knotgrass Mead. His bowtie, shoes, and the outer cloak of his dress robes were abandoned in the grass below him despite the definite nip in the air, and his face was tilted up towards the sky, though his view of the sky was almost entirely occluded by branches and dying leaves. Sirius sniffed and glanced down when Remus approached, and Remus’s stomach squeezed. The grin Sirius shot at him looked painful and kept his eyes untouched. And it was obvious he had been crying. Even in the semidarkness of early night, the light of the waxing moon reflected off the wet tracks down his cheeks. Sirius was too late to wipe them away when he realized Remus was looking. 

“Mind if I join you?” Remus asked, casting a glance back over his shoulder towards the Potter’s house to ensure he hadn’t been followed, but there was only an empty stretch of grass and garden. 

“Not at all,” Sirius said. His voice was soft and worn as old flannel. He cleared his throat, but it didn’t seem to help, “Up you go.” Remus grabbed Sirius’s extended hand in one hand, the low branch in the other, and between the two of them, he clambered up easily onto the branch. Sirius shifted, turning to lean sideways against the tree to give Remus more room, and he accepted it, settling himself at Sirius’s other side. They sat in silence for a long time, listening to the distant sounds of talking and laughter from the house, Sirius still taking swigs of his mead, eyes distant. It was Remus who finally breached the silence, because he felt something deep and sad pulling him in towards Sirius, and could guess at why that was.

“You won’t lose him, you know, Padfoot. You’re his brother. His getting married won’t change that. He’ll always have time for you. He’ll always love you. And you and Lily get along very well. You can spend time with both of them. Expand your family.” Sirius laughed, dry and hollow, then mopped his eyes again. 

“It’s not… I mean, I was worried, Moony. The Potters are the only decent family I’ve got left. But I know I’m being stupid, and I am happy for them. Five years ago I would have bet ten galleons that Lily would never put up with Prongs for more than one date, if that, but there they were. Happy and laughing and beautiful. Cheers to them. And I mean it. It’s just…” Sirius trailed off, shoulders slumping, turning the now empty bottle between his palms. For a full minute he said nothing. It was tempting to interrupt again, to break the silence; say something or at least put an arm around Sirius to try to provide some comfort. But Remus wanted to hear what Sirius had been meaning to say, and it felt as though any disturbance might make that less likely. Finally, when Remus was almost certain Sirius had decided to drop the thread of the conversation entirely, he spoke again. “Do you ever worry that you’ll never get what they have? That you’ll never be like that? That you’ll never… It just seems like too much to hope for, you know?” Remus’s brow furrowed.

“You mean, do I worry that I’ll never fall in love?”

“No,” Sirius said, with a bark of wry laughter, “I’m not worried about that. What I meant was… They’re going to have a family of their own, probably, and everyone is so happy for them. Everyone wishes them well. Everyone is thinking about them as a unit now, and it seems like it must feel so cozy, Rem. Do you ever worry that you’ll never have that?” Remus considered, wetting his lips.

“Well. Yes. But our situations are very different. After the war is over, you’ll have no trouble finding a job. You’ll have security. You’ll find love. Start a family. You shouldn’t be worried, even if I am. You don’t have a furry little problem to concern yourself with.” 

“I want one.” 

“What?” Remus looked across at him, brows furrowed. Sirius shifted and turned his face away, expression suddenly tight, “You want to be a werewolf?”

“That’s not what I meant. I was trying to be charming, but it didn’t come out right, sorry. Maybe I’ve had too much to drink.” He chucked the empty bottle, pointing his wand at it as it spun through the air. It exploded into a burst of cinnabar moths, which dispersed into the night, whisper-quiet. But Remus wasn’t about to let Sirius get out of it quite so easily as that. 

“Nice one… What did you mean, Sirius?” Sirius sighed then fixed him with a soft look, gray eyes gone black in the darkness. 

“I want to be a family with you, like how James and Lily are family with each other. But I don’t know that I’m ever going to get it. I don’t even know that you would want that.” Remus’s heart skipped two beats. When he touched Sirius’s cheek, curling his palm against it, his skin was still damp from tears, but burning up beneath that. Sirius turned his face into his hand, snuffling at Remus’s wrist in a way that made Remus want to pull him in close and hold him. So he did. It was a slow, ungainly shuffle, Remus drawing Sirius closer, Sirius drawing Remus back towards the trunk of the tree, but finally they were arranged chest to chest, with Sirius on top of Remus, face pressed warm against his neck, damper than before because at some point during the rearrangement, Sirius had started crying silent tears. One of his hands was clutched tight around Remus’s arm—too tight, tight enough to hurt—but Remus didn’t have the heart to tell him to relax his grip. 

“You want to be the James to my Lily?” Sirius managed another hoarse laugh.

“No. I want to be the Padfoot to your Moony.”

“Sirius…” It was difficult to get the words out, because Remus’s felt freer and happier than he had since graduation, as though even the shadow of the war had been momentarily dispelled. He had known that he and Sirius had a distinct relationship from that which they shared with the other Marauders, or anyone else for that matter, but Remus had always assumed that Sirius, being Sirius, would leave the definition hazy, and had planned to simply enjoy it for whatever it was for as long as it lasted. It was in many ways a relief to know that the deep romantic affection he felt for Sirius was reciprocated. But certain facts remained unchanged. “You remember that my furry little problem isn’t just a monthly ritual we used to schedule Marauding nights around, right? That—if you wanted to stay with me—it would only become more difficult to deal with. That it will be difficult for me to get a job until a cure is made or until views about werewolves change. We couldn’t— if it was something you were interested in, I mean, they would never let me adopt a child.” 

“I know,” Sirius said, very quietly. There was something caught in Remus’s throat: a lump he didn’t quite want to talk through. But he forced himself forward.

“Just because you want to spend your life with me right now, that doesn’t mean that you couldn’t want to spend your life with someone else. I’m not your only option, Sirius. There are other people to love. We’re not… we’re not the only two people like us. I know we aren’t.” 

“Remus John Lupin,” All the softness had gone out of Sirius’s voice. He had pulled away from Remus’s arms and was kneeling on the tree branch, and Remus could tell his eyes were feverish and sharp even in the deepening night, “If you think for one fucking second I’m choosing you _by default_ or as a last resort or something, Padfoot is going to give you so many kisses that you’re never going to fully scrub the scent of dog mouth off yourself.” 

“Merlin, no. Not the puppy kisses.” Remus said, but Sirius was already smiling too wide with too many teeth, great black ears sprouting from his dark hair. It was a quick transition from amusement to mild panic. “We’re in a tree, Sirius! You’re not going to be able to—“ But it was too late. Sirius had already transfigured into a dog the approximate size of a black bear. He launched himself at Remus, but his paws were not well-suited to holding onto bark. Remus tried to grab him, to keep him from slipping off the bough, but that only served to unbalance both of them. They landed with a yelp and a winded gasp—Padfoot sprawled on top of Remus—on the ground on top of Sirius’s dress robes five feet below. “Why does this always happen with you? Always. All the time.” Remus choked, trying to breathe properly as the dog scrambled to his feet, shook himself then transfigured back into the man. His neat braid was now somewhat disheveled, and he was clutching his forearm with one hand, but he was also howling with laughter. 

“Sorry, Moony,” Sirius said, rolling over. His hair had picked up a few brown leaves in addition to the flowers, and Remus plucked one out, casting it aside. “I forgot.” He kissed Remus’s cheek, then, more slowly, his mouth. Their lips moved together, sweet and gentle, Sirius breaking away several times so Remus could get in his painful breaths. He tasted like knotgrass and honey, and smelled like dog fur and wet leaves, but neither was offensive. It still evaded Remus’s understanding why Sirius Black, charming, funny, brilliant, painfully handsome Sirius, would even suggest a lifetime romantic commitment to him. But he wouldn’t question it now. He would just soak it in for as long as it lasted, and hope it lasted forever. 

“I love you, Sirius.” He murmured when they pulled apart at last to sprawl back on the cloak and fallen leaves, their hands clasped tight.

“I love you too, Remus.”


End file.
